


Uh...

by GlassHawk



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Family, Gen, He deserved better than what he got, Humor, Space Train to the Cosmos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 20:20:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6208672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlassHawk/pseuds/GlassHawk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg reflects to Steven about his... illustrious music career.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Uh...

**Author's Note:**

> I originally put this on FanFiction.net on March 6th, 2016.

"So, why are you so interested in these again?"

Greg picked up a stack of CDs from the crate and put them under the lamplight, hanging high from the ceiling above. Through the thick layer of dust, he could faintly discern the colorful drawing of a train, flown off the rails and soaring high through the clouds. "Steven? Are you even listening?" he asked as he wiped his hand across the cover, waving the dust away.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm listening... what was it you said again?"

"I said, why are you so interested in my albums all of a sudden?" sighed Greg. "You've never really asked before, so why now?"

"Oh, no reason, really." Steven jumped down from the back of the van and walked over to his father. He took a seat and stuck his own hands in the CD crate, leafing through the jewel cases before coming up with a random selection. "Hey, what's this one right here? There's no label on it."

"That? Oh, that's probably one of my old college mixtapes, heh heh," mumbled Greg. Without even bothering to ask for permission, he took the case from his son and put it in his back pocket, for safe disposal later that night.

"Don't worry about that one. Why don't you listen to Space Train to the Cosmos instead? It's my best work."

Greg stretched over and reached for the nearby CD player, his fingers firmly clasping around the handle after a bit of a struggle. He then stood up and walked over to his van, Steven in close pursuit. He gently set the machine down on the edge and popped open the CD tray, before taking out the disc from Space Train to the Cosmos and carefully putting it in.

For a few brief seconds, the whirl of the spinning CD filled the blank absence of sound. And then, before the monotony reached the stage of awkwardness, a few loose guitar notes punctured the air and echoed throughout.

*Some... say I have no direction... that I'm a light speed distraction... that's a knee-jerk reaction.*

Steven grinned at the sound of his father's recorded singing, from however long ago. He began to snap his fingers and dance around, earning a few small chuckles from Greg as well.

For the next minute or so, both father and son fell quiet as the song played to its conclusion, wrapping up at last with *I'm just a comet...*. Steven glanced over at his dad with wide, star-filled eyes.

"Wow, dad, that was GREAT!"

"Really? Well gee, thanks, I guess. It's a shame other people didn't really think so."

"Huh? What do you mean?" Steven sat down on the spot and crossed his legs, a reaction mirrored closely by Greg. "Did you not sell very many copies?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say that... but you see, a lot of stuff was getting in my way." Greg crossed his arms and tightly closed his eyes, allowing himself a moment to think. "First there were the record labels, and then Marty, and then that *darn custom t-shirt company.* It all started when-"

"Wait, wait, don't go into a long story, pretend we don't have time," interrupted Steven. "Thirty seconds. Go."

"When I first began my career, I produced about thirty demos and sent them to various major record labels around the United States and Canada, only to be individually rejected by them all. I put all the notes in a box and had your mom give it to Pearl later. Anyways, after that, I met Marty and hired him as my manager, and he couldn't get any labels behind me, so I toured the country and performed in many 'venues' with almost no equipment and zero people in attendance. The only CD I ever sold was to your mother, and even then it was free and came with a t-shirt I couldn't actually afford to have manufactured and purchased in the first place."

Steven processed this information carefully. And then, an ear-to-ear smile split across his face as he began to laugh.

"That's a good one, dad! I gotta say, you're quite the storyteller. But no, seriously, what was your music career like before you met mom?"

"Uh..."


End file.
